The shrink
by ashhead
Summary: Booth and Bones have a new case and it's getting to both of them. B
1. The case

A/N- This is part one of a three part story, part two is in the works now. This is my first Bones fic, so any pointers would be appreciated.

Temperance Brennan squinted at the clock on the desk, it read 10.23pm. She sighed, no wonder she was having trouble concentrating. This case was really beginning to get to her, they had found more than enough evidence, but none of it seemed to be adding up to a suspect. The fact that two of the victims were living under assumed identities didn't help, but the other two should have provided enough to go on.

But staring at their bones hadn't got her anywhere, and it had been all she'd done since Angela had tried to get her to agree to a night out three hours ago. She'd shaken her friend off, unable to face a night of frivolity whilst this case was still hanging over her head. There was something hauntingly familiar about it, something she should recognise, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. She really should go home, she had told Angela she was staying to wait for the victims original identities to be faxed over, but given the time of night they weren't likely to come through now.

"You're still here." His voice called from behind her. She knew it was him, she'd heard his quiet footsteps approaching, but hadn't turned around, hoping he might not see her. Normally she would have been glad to see Booth, hoping that they might be able to bounce some ideas off each other and come up with something. But Booth knew her too well, knew her better than anyone, and he'd see how off balance she was with this case. She'd spent a long time earning his respect, she didn't want to seem weak.

"Yeah, I'm just finishing up." She turned around to face him, hoping she was managing to keep her voice even.

Apparently she hadn't, as Booth stepped closer to her and said in the soft voice that sent shivers down her spine, "This one's really bothering you, isn't it?"

He just knew her too well, and attempting to hide anything was pointless. "There's something about these injuries, the positioning of the blows. I know who did this, I just can't seem to remember."

Booth watched her agitated stance as she gestured at the bones. Silently he thought that it was likely more than the wounds that were bothering her. Two of the women they had found were products of the fostercare system, and the false identities of the other two would more than likely prove them to be something similar. Three of the women appeared to be long term drug abusers, and one showed evidence of prolonged domestic abuse. The fate of these women was a little to close to home for him, and he suspected that it had shaken her too. But then, it was Bones, and he was never quite sure what was going on inside her head.

"They'll still be here in the morning Bones," was the best he could do at reassuring her. She heard the tiredness in his voice and realised he was struggling with this one too.

"You're right," she said as she removed her lab coat, grabbing her bag as they left the forensics lab.

"I know I'm right," he quipped as he followed her out to the parking lot.

She gave him a wan smile, all that she could muster. That drew him closer, his fingers bringing her chin up so that she was looking into his eyes, his breath warm on her face.

"We will get this one Bones, I promise you that."

She wanted to tell him that he couldn't know that for sure, that he couldn't promise that, but he was so damn close and she found she couldn't say anything at all. Then he stepped away and the moment was gone, she could breathe again.

"Thanks Booth."

"Goodnight Bones."


	2. The shrink

A/N- does Angela call Bones Brennan or Temperance? I couldn't remember. Next part probably won't be until next week.

Angela saw the dirty coffee mug on Brennan's desk and frowned. Her friend had obviously pulled an all nighter again, she was normally fastidious when it came to the cleanliness of her lab. Angela glanced at her watch, it was 9.05, there was no way Brennan wouldn't be in yet, she must be getting breakfast.

Shaking her head at Brennan's inability to let go, Angela grabbed the coffee mug off her desk, she could just imagine a sleep deprived Brennan explaining at length to one of her long suffering interns why cleanliness in a lab was necessary, and that was an experience best avoided. As she left she noted the fax on Brennan's machine, it was the ID's for the other victims. Putting down Brennan's coffee mug, Angela perused the documents. It only took her five minutes to note the link, all of the victims had been patients of a Doctor Leaman.

A quick background check on Brennan's computer showed he was a psychologist who had been arrested for attacking one of his patients. The patient hadn't pressed charges and the psychologist had stopped practicing. The patient was a fifteen year old Temperance Brennan.

Angela felt her heart miss a beat. She looked around the forensics lab, there was still no sign of Brennan. She felt a wave of panic rising, and grabbed the nearest phone.

"Booth," Angela crossed her fingers as he answered.

"Please tell me she's with you."

"Hi Angela, who's with me?"

"Brennan!"

"No, is she not in yet? She pulled a late one last night though, maybe you need to cut her some slack..." Booth never got a chance to explain that was a difficult case for her as Angela, virtually hysterical by this point, cut over the top of him.

"You need to get to her apartment now. All of our victims are former patients of a Dr Leaman, a psychologist who attacked one of his patients. The bone damage each victim sustained is consistent with that attack. The patient he attacked was Brennan."

"You have got to be kidding me. I can be there in five, get Cam to send backup."

***

When Brennan had finally made it home it was past eleven. She was distracted by the case, and by trying to ignore the feelings Booth had stirred up in the parking lot. So she hadn't noticed that someone had been through her apartment, that things that had been moved hadn't been put back in exactly the right place.

She didn't notice anything until a needle was shoved into her arm, and by that point it was simply too late. As she moved to turn against her attacker, she felt her limbs become numb, and even as she managed to get a block in, she felt herself begin to fall. She was unconscious by the time she hit the floor with a sickening crunch.

So she was unaware of her attacker shaking his head as he examined the injuries he hadn't meant to inflict. "You never do things properly, do you Temperance?" Then he set about inflicting the injuries he did intend for her to suffer.

***

When she awoke, it was to a thumping headache and a strange smell in the air. If not for the headache, she would have recognised it sooner, but as she began to wake up she recognised it as gasoline. She tried to sit up, but that was a mistake as pain shot through her body. Her wrist was broken, and possibly some of her ribs.

"Good morning Temperance," a man called from the corner of the room. "You remember me of course."

She squinted at him, trying to make sense of what she saw. Everything was tainted with a haze of pain, and her thoughts came sluggishly. "Dr Leaman," she managed eventually.

"Yes, I couldn't let you go without saying goodbye, you were always the most captivating of my patients, even if you were the most difficult."

"Go where?" Brennan asked, confused.

Dr Leaman continued on, ignoring her question, "You know its interesting how little you've changed. No pictures anywhere, no television, nothing of any personal significance. You always loved being alone, and now you get to die alone."

"What?" Brennan asked, she was beginning to lose consciousness again, she couldn't focus on what he was saying. She wouldn't die alone, of course she wouldn't, Booth would be there, he was always there. "Booth," she said, as if it had some significance.

"Don't be ridiculous my dear, there's no one coming for you. You have no one, just like always." With that he knelt down and pressed a kiss into her forehead. "Goodbye Temperance," he uttered as he lit the match and let it fall.


End file.
